


Akira Kurusu: MILF Hunter

by ItsAutumnHereFriend



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, I don't know much about plants, Reader is in University, apologies in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAutumnHereFriend/pseuds/ItsAutumnHereFriend
Summary: ...Except he's really bad at it and wishes that he maxed out his charm.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren (Persona Series) & Reader, Amamiya Ren (Persona Series)/Reader, Kurusu Akira & Reader, Kurusu Akira/Reader, Persona 5 Protagonist/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 118





	Akira Kurusu: MILF Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> He doesn't actually hunt for MILFs.

Maybe it was a bad idea to push yourself to balance an absurd amount of books for the sake of efficiency. Why bother going back and forth between your table and the bookshelves when you can carry all the books at once? 

Because you might just destroy the books in all its entirety. At least if the books crush you by their weight, you won't have to suffer a multitude of book fines. 

You grunt, biting your lip in concentration. You clearly overestimated the amount of muscle you have. The comically large stack of books in your hands begin to topple over your clumsy footsteps. 

Just when they were about to fall--you can already taste the fine, and great. More things to be broke over--a hand catches the books. They push the books closer together so that they're once more stacked neatly on top of each other before they pluck half of the stack from you. 

You blink at the person who has just saved you from being broke now that you're aware that the books won't be falling again. Your muscles scream their gratitudes. 

His eyes blink at you beneath his glasses. You tilt your head. Then your eyes widen, lips stretching in a smile. "Kurusu! Thank you." You lead him to the table you had claimed. "Sorry about that," you add, smile now apologetic. 

Kurusu shrugs, placing the books in a stack on the table and moves to sit down across from you.

"I didn't expect to see you here." Your brows furrow, trying to move your head to see him beyond the books. You push the books aside so that you can see him. 

His fingers are playing with his bangs, other hand beneath the table. Though you can tell he's on his phone by the way his glasses are illuminated by it. 

"I had something to ask you."

You smile wryly. "Yeah? You sure you're not just hitting on me?" 

Akira takes far too long to respond. 

You roll your eyes, smile growing weaker. "Buy me a drink first. Oh- you're not legal yet."

"Hasn't stopped me," and he has the insanity to shrug. 

Sighing, you drum your fingers on the table. "One of these days you're going to get caught, y'know."

"They don't check my ID anymore."

"Because you come so often."

His eyes glint, and you glare at him. "Only to see you," except he hesitates before winking.

You raise an eyebrow. "You mean you're _not_ going to ask me if something is poisonous again?" 

Akira's silent before bringing out his phone to show you a picture of a plant. "My friend is cultivating it. Is is bad?" 

You hum, slightly irritated. If his friend doesn't know if it's dangerous, why plant it? Thankfully it isn't a highly dangerous plant, although you aren't sure how he or his friend would be supplied with it, but it's still dangerous to a degree. 

"No. Just make sure to wear thick gloves and that your skin isn't exposed to it." 

He nods, tucking away his phone. 

"Where'd you get something like that, anyways?" Your head tilts to the side, scrutinizing him carefully. 

Akira leans back, the reflection of his glasses hiding his eyes. "It's not mine."

You blink at him. Fine, sure. It _wasn't_ his. But… 

He's staring at you carefully, as if he's calculating your next move. It's not like the plant is illegal by any means--but he's staring at you as if prepared to call a bluff. 

You clear your throat. "So has this friend of yours always been planting… Those types of plants?" 

He hums.

"Without knowing what they are?" 

He hums again. 

You want to bash his skull. What happened to safety nowadays?

His eyes wander to a spot above your head, a faraway look in his eyes as he says slowly: "I would tell her to stop if I had known sooner."

Your eye twitches. He wants something more from you, that much is obvious, but why? 

You decide to humour him. "Tell you what," you say, leaning closer. "I'll give you my number, and you just ask me. You don't have to come here all the time. Maybe it'll help me too. 

"And listen, your friend shouldn't be growing shit like that if she doesn't know what it is."

"Are you offering to grow it for her?"

You huff, crossing your arms. There it is. "Why would she want to grow anything like that?" 

You close your eyes just as Akira begins to shrug. You refuse to see more of his bullshit. It'd weigh too heavily on your conscious to know someone is sacrilegiously planting crops, completely unaware of its dangers; and it _does_ give you an opportunity to keep some yourself… For scientific purposes, of course.

You mull over your next words. "You shouldn't let her do that. Especially if you have to ask if it'll kill you all the time."

The sharpness in his eyes do not falter; and he waits, as if expecting something. The silence permeates through the air, the rustling of pages and quiet shuffling fill the void. 

You sigh. How stubborn. "I'll grow them for her. Just get her to stop, okay?" 

Akira grins like the bastard he is--satisfied with the outcome. 

"Make sure you tip me tonight, though," you laugh, winking. 

You won't let him off the hook so easily. 

  
  
  
  


You didn't expect him to actually tip you as much as he is--

Your hand grips his, and he's cocky enough to send a (seemingly) sweet smile your way, though his eyes betray him. 

"I appreciate this, but this is… too much. Seriously."

"You said to tip."

You choke on your words. "How did you even get this much money? This is insane, Kurusu." 

He withdraws his hand, splitting the bills in half before dropping one of the halves in your tip jar. 

You sigh. This is likely the best outcome when it comes to Akira, the little devil. 

"The usual?" You ask, already pouring apple juice in a glass for him.

"I want actual alcohol this time," he whines, brows furrowed. 

"Not until you're legal. Lala will have my head." You sneak a glance at her. She doesn't look at you, but you already know she's listening.

Akira leans forward, stealing your attention once more. "If you won't let me drink here… How about at your place instead?" 

You wonder how much gall he has to have made a fake ID, and to be grinning like he won the lottery with a glass of apple juice in his hands. 

You wonder why Lala hasn't thrown him out yet. Though you're sure he's managed to charm her because he makes it his priority to greet her first when he enters Crossroads Bar. 

Lala looks pleased with every conversation they have. 

You shudder at the implications that can hold. 

You recall Lala clapping your shoulder as you take your shift, saying "he frequents the bar for you." 

And you had instinctively said "That illegal shit?" 

You're not sure you've seen Lala laugh so genuinely, and honestly, you should thank Akira for that. 

But not now. 

Not when he's staring at you like you're some sort of prey and he the predator. 

_Or at least trying to look the part._

You reach over and tug at his bangs, and just like the time with Lala--"you fucking illegal shit," you fight through your laughter, "get out of here before you're thrown out."

"Then how will I see you?" He whines. Then, he raises an eyebrow. "Unless I go to your place…?" 

"No."

He pouts. You're not at all prepared for the sudden thought of how cute he is. 

You breathe slowly instead, busying your hands by making a drink for a different customer. 

Akira's eyes train to your hands. He leans forward. "Are you guys hiring?" 

You snort. "Want to work here just to learn some tricks?" 

"Maybe."

"I'll bring it up with Lala. I'll make sure to put in a bad word or two for you."

"Hey!" Akira whines, pouting. 

"I'm just kidding." You laugh, sliding a drink to the customer on your right. "Although, make sure you're sleeping."

Unconsciously, your body moves on its own, a hand reaching to place your fingers against the side of his cheek, your thumb sliding under the frames of his glasses to lightly graze the dark circles under his eye.

Akira pauses. His eyes remain focused on yours. He isn't sure what that blank expression on your face means. When you squint, he feels his heart stuttering. 

Lala coughs, and the spell between you and Akira break. Your hand hangs limply at your side. Akira's blinking rapidly. 

You avoid eye contact with him. "Make sure to sleep well."

Akira nods a few seconds later. "Yeah."

  
  
  
  


The table at your university's library is covered in books. Searching through the papers quickly, you hope to find something that catches your eye for your essay.

You huff, thumb and forefinger fingering the next page as your eyes drift from text to text. 

Papers filled with chicken scratch mix with the books strewn about. Some are between pages, some spread even to the chair next to you. To anyone, you'd look like an absolute mess, but to Akira, it was endearing how messy and dedicated you could get. 

He walks up to you, deciding that you wouldn't notice him due to how engaged you are otherwise. 

He presses a can of cold coffee to your cheek, and you yelp, looking apologetically to the surrounding area as if to apologize for the abrupt change in noise. 

Your hands press into the can slowly, blinking blearily at Akira and the can. 

"It's a thank you," Akira explains as he takes a seat next to you (free of any books and papers), "for the good word."

It takes you a while to process what he had said. You perk up as soon as it does. "Did you get hired?" 

"All thanks to you."

You laugh softly. "Not at all. It's all thanks to you sucking up to Lala."

"I'm just being nice," he counters, but the cheeky grin on his lips say otherwise. 

"Congrats, I'll have to show you the ropes then, huh."

He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. "And no drinking!" 

Akira slumps against his chair. He lets the silence become a low buzz in your ears as he thinks about what to say. The sound nearly becomes too much had you not strained to hear the rustling of clothes and jostling of papers to overtake the buzzing--until: "at least I get to see you more often."

You stare incredulously at him. As if you didn't know the effort he made to go to Shinjuku to hang around with you and Ohya at the bar. You don't understand why it appeals to him. He comes out of the room he and Ohya take up to speak in private in a haggard state, breathing out a silent sigh every time. 

Akira scrolls through his phone, procuring a list of plants. "Will you be able to grow these?" He asks you, handing his phone to you. 

You hum, scrolling through the list. "Got some of these growing already. But yeah, I can."

Handing him his phone back, you sigh a "you _could_ have just texted me, y'know. I gave you my number for a reason."

Akira shrugs. "Just wanted to see you."

"Sure," you drawl lazily. 

The library returns to a relatively quiet space, now that Akira is slowly thumbing through your messy scrawl of writings tucked between pages. 

The silence permeates between the two of you, and while you're grateful for the stillness, Akira soon becomes antsy. Maybe you should suggest he bring his homework here if he insists on visiting campus often. As much as you embrace the opportunity to procrastinate (and regret it later on), the stress of your essay's due date looms over you. 

You sigh, shifting your body so that you're facing him. Though you startle, already finding Akira's stare trained on you. 

Akira leans towards you. You're not at all prepared for his hand to brush against your cheek, thumb resting on the outskirts of your eye. "You haven't been sleeping well."

Nearly the same position as the night at Crossroads Bar--you wonder if this is how he felt. Confused at the sudden onslaught of skinship, or simply trying to return a favour? Simply trying to make the playing field even to open up more favours? 

His brows are furrowed, and you want to tell him that you know he hasn't been either, but the words die in your throat as his hand slides up your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

"Sleep more," and he pulls away. 

You smile. "Will you find me a sugar daddy then?" 

He looks at you for far too long, and nods hesitantly. " _I_ can be."

You snort, shaking your head. "I'll sleep when you sleep," you say half-heartedly whilst packing up the mess on the table. 

Akira nods. "I'll text you."

A ghost of a smile presents itself on your lips. "I wasn't serious. But it'd be nice to hear. You look like you're going to pass out, Kurusu."

Akira hums to that, doing nothing to dispel the statement. 

Lifting your tote bag, you huff quietly to yourself, straining to keep the bag from brushing against the floor every time you take a step. Akira notices, and of course, "I'll help," is his immediate response. He grins all the while, and you wonder if he's always this considerate. For a person like that, it quickly becomes a double-edged sword, kindness. 

Unless… 

"Just so you can see where my house is? No." You shake your head. He pouts. 

"At least let me help you carry them."

You wonder if he's acting as if you got him, latched onto his personality to make you feel more at ease with his presence, increasing the presence of vulnerability. Your thoughts drift back to the list of plants he had eventually sent you. An odd hobby, or something else? 

You smile, patting his head. He croons like a cat, head tilting to push against your hand. You blink at his demeanor. Huh. How… Endearing. "I'll be fine, thank you." To iterate your strength, you grab the shoulder straps of the tote bag and do a (rather shoddy) bicep curl. "See? I'm strong."

Akira lets his amusement show as he squishes your bicep idly. "So strong. So much muscle."

You laugh, pushing him away lightly. "I'll be seeing you. Make sure to text me when you sleep."

He hums, nodding. 

  
  
  
  


That night, he does in fact text you. You wonder if he's actually going to bed or if he's pretending to to appease you and to ensure you keep your end of the bargain. 

With your sleep-addled brain, you send him a text: Send me a pic. 

:o You move so fast. 

Not like that!!! I need proof that you're actually about to go to sleep >:(

It takes a while, but to your surprise he sends you a picture of him in his bed. The image is dark, is it worth it to turn up your brightness just to see him? 

No. 

No it never is. 

Whether he's lying to you or not, you'll take his word for it--somewhat.

Good. I'll see you at work, then. Night.

Wait :( 

What? 

Send me a pic too. I sent one, you have to too. :(

The glow of the screen burns your eyes. Is he serious? You sigh. You'll humour him. You decide to take a picture similar to his. Lights off, you make a split second decision to throw in a peace sign with it. 

There. Happy? 

:D

You snort. He's awfully cute.

**Author's Note:**

> Wasn't really sure what to do with this, I've re-worked the plot so many times I figured I may as well publish it lest my perfectionism get in the way. Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> More to come, maybe?


End file.
